Karma Girl

by Jennifer Estep

  Instead, I polished off the batter-dipped bites, licked the crumbs off my fingers, and watched Erica interrogate Johnny. A scuffle sounded, and the kimono-clad scientist I’d spotted with the reporter earlier stopped next to me. The woman stared at the curvaceous news reporter. A disapproving frown covered her white, makeup-free face.

  “Not enjoying the show?” I asked.

  “Oh, preening for the camera and throwing herself at men is what Erica does best.” The woman sniffed. “After a while, the spectacle gets old.”

  “You sound like you know her pretty well.”

  “Unfortunately,” the woman replied, “we share the same gene pool.”

  I eyed her. With her headache-inducing bun and buttoned-up-to-there dress, the woman didn’t look a thing like Erica I’m-so-slutty Songe. “Cousins?”

  “Sisters. Unfortunately.”

  “I’m Fiona Fine, and you are...”

  “Irene Songe.”

  We shook hands. Irene’s grip felt as cold and passionless as an ice cube. It matched her pale face. We stood there drinking champagne and watching Erica do her best to let Johnny Bulluci know she was up for anything, anytime. After about five minutes, Johnny managed to extricate himself from Erica’s clutches and head back to me. Erica trailed along behind him, not quite ready to admit defeat. The cameraman grabbed some more champagne. It was a wonder the guy could still stand—or that his liver didn’t burst.

  Erica stopped short when she spotted her sister talking to me. “Enjoying yourself, Irene?”

  “Of course,” Irene replied.

  The two women looked at each other with barely disguised hostility. Definitely no love lost there. One sister an exhibitionist, the other a repressed, wound-up scientist. I couldn’t imagine why they didn’t get along.

  Erica turned to Johnny and flashed him another smile. She opened her mouth to proposition Johnny yet again, but he beat her to the punch.

  “It was so nice talking to you, Erica. But if you’ll excuse us, Fiona and I have somewhere we need to be. Now.”

  Johnny offered me his arm, and we walked away. I looked back over my shoulder and smiled at Erica. Her face reddened, and her hands clenched into fists, as though she wanted to stab me with her microphone. Let her try. I could kick her ass blindfolded. Irene whispered something to her, and Erica turned and snapped at her sister.

  “Forget about her,” Johnny said. “You’re the only woman I have eyes for tonight.”

  I smiled at him. “Smooth. Very, very smooth.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Johnny said, his eyes burning into mine. “And go somewhere a bit more private.”

  My stomach quivered. “Let’s go,” I said.

  He pulled me toward the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  We strolled out the back of the auditorium and onto a stone balcony that overlooked the gardens and nature preserve that surrounded the observatory. Acres of flowers, grassy knolls, and low bushes stretched out before us into the dark night before melting into the black woods. A few other couples stood on the balcony, whispering, drinking, and enjoying the scenic view.

  “Care to go for a walk in the moonlight?” Johnny asked.

  “I’d love to.”

  We picked our way down the stone steps and onto one of the crushed-shell paths that wound through the tame jungle. Antique streetlamps lit the way, along with the moon and stars above. A steady breeze blew from the north, pushing a few wisps of clouds across the sky and bringing with it the heady scent of roses, orchids, and more. But all I was aware of was Johnny walking next to me. His spicy cologne tickled my nose, and his body felt warm and solid next to mine.

  We strolled in silence, leaving the noise and gaiety and lights of the benefit behind. Crickets chirped in the dew-covered grass. A bullfrog let out a loud bellow. Doves cooed and fluttered in the trees above. We crossed a stone bridge that arched over the manmade river. Water gurgled below our feet.

  “Come on,” Johnny said. “Let’s take a detour.”

  He took my hand and led me down a path that curved back under the bridge. After going under the bridge, the river tumbled down a hill, forming a small, fifteen-foot-high waterfall. The water pooled into a shallow lake a little less than two miles across before rushing on down the hillside. Fiberglass picnic tables and stone benches dotted the lake’s edge. Brilliant moonlight bounced off the water’s surface, making it shimmer like liquid silver. Cattails and other vegetation surrounded the water’s edge, and a few water lilies floated in the pool, bouncing up and down on the rippling waves.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

  “Want to go for a swim?”

  “Now? In the middle of the night?”

  I loved to swim, loved to lose myself in cool, soothing water and rhythmic strokes. But coming up to the lake for some late-night swimming, skinny-dipping, and a little necking was a popular pastime for local teens and college students. When Johnny had said he wanted to go somewhere more private, I’d been thinking about my apartment, specifically my bed.

  Johnny grinned, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “Why not? There’s nobody around but the two of us. I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

  He slipped off his jacket and shoes and put them on a nearby bench. His shirt and pants soon followed. All I could do was stare at the man before me. I’d thought there was a body to die for under those clothes, but I had no idea how deadly it was. Sculpted biceps. Rippling abs. Solid muscles. My eyes dipped lower. Everywhere. Yummy. Johnny Bulluci was one fine-looking man. I closed my hands to keep unwanted sparks from shooting out of my fingertips.

  I ogled him a minute longer, then laughed. “Cherubs?”

  Johnny put his hands on his hips, proud of his boxers. Fat, happy-looking cherubs frolicking on puffy clouds decorated the slick, silk fabric. “Just because I’m no angel doesn’t mean I can’t wear them. Now, are you coming or not?”

  I hesitated, twisting the ring around my finger. The time for being wishy-washy was long gone. I stopped and let out a long, hot breath. “I’m coming.”

  I stripped off my dress and high heels, folding the fabric into a neat pile. It would have a million wrinkles in it, but I could always make another one just like it. In a moment, I was standing there in a lacy green bra and matching panties. I always wore the good underwear when there was a chance of someone else taking it off.

  Johnny’s eyes traced over my body. “You know, I think Erica was right. The real thing is so much better than my imagination.”

  I smiled and lifted my chin up. “Of course it is, when I’m involved.”

  We strolled down to the water’s edge and plunged into the frothy spray. We treaded water a few minutes, letting our bodies adjust to the cool temperature. Even though it was the middle of May, the water hovered around seventy degrees, a bit chilly for most people. Not Johnny, though. He swam and dove like a duck. If anything, the water invigorated him. Or perhaps it was just the sight of me in my wet skivvies. Yeah, that’s what I was going with.

  “Is the water too cold for you?” Johnny asked.

  “No.” I was never cold. But the hunger in Johnny’s eyes made me shiver.

  We swam back and forth in the pool, shrieking and splashing water and pulling each other under like a couple of teenagers. After about half an hour, we headed for shore. We flopped onto the grass and stared at the smattering of stars high above.

  “It’s so peaceful here,” I murmured. “So beautiful.”

  “Not as beautiful as you,” Johnny whispered in a husky voice.

  I stared into his eyes. This was it. Decision time. The old guilt flared to life inside me. But Travis was gone, and Johnny was here. Now. With me.

  So, I kissed him. His tongue met mine, and I was lost.

  My bra and panties disappeared before I knew what had happened. So did Johnny’s boxers. Everything else faded away until there was nothing but the soft grass below us, the stars above, and Johnny’s hands on me.

  We lay there
for a long time. Kissing. Stroking. Caressing.

  Johnny pulled back. He pushed a wisp of hair off my face and stared into my eyes. His own glistened like jewels in the moonlight.

  “I want to do something for you, Fiona,” Johnny said. “Do you trust me?”

  I went quiet and still. I wasn’t good at trusting people. I’d gone through too many battles with too many ubervillains to give my trust lightly to anyone. But there was something about Johnny that made me want to trust him. Made me want to lower my defenses. Made me want to believe in him. “Yes, I do.”

  “Then roll over onto your stomach.”

  I did, and to my surprise, he started to massage me. There was nothing overtly sexual about it. Just Johnny’s firm hands kneading my body with the detachment of a large Swedish woman. He started at my feet, moving up my calves to my thighs. His fingers worked on my ass, molding, sculpting, before going up to my lower back and shoulders. He even worked on my head, loosening my hair from its wet bun and massaging my scalp.

  Heaven. Sheer heaven.

  “Now, the other side,” Johnny whispered.

  I turned over onto my back, eager for more. Much, much more. Johnny repeated the process, this time starting with my neck and working his way down. His fingers pressed gently into me, soothing away my doubts and fears. His sure hands moved to my breasts, massaging each one in turn. My nipples hardened under his touch, but Johnny ignored them and went on with the massage, focusing on my stomach, before sliding lower.

  I trembled when he reached my pelvic area. I thought he might slip his fingers inside me, but Johnny moved on as though he wasn’t the least bit interested in that part of my anatomy. He worked on my thighs, then calves, then feet. Slowly, the fireball of guilt and tension in my stomach faded away, replaced by a different, though no less dangerous, sort of liquid heat.

  “That was wonderful,” I sighed when he finished. “Absolutely wonderful.”

  Johnny grinned. A devilish light sparked in his eyes. “Baby, if you thought that was wonderful, how about this?”

  He eased my thighs apart and lowered his mouth to me. I gasped at the sudden, unexpected sensation.

  “Do you like that, baby?” he asked.

  I buried my fingers in his hair and whimpered.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Johnny delved into me like I was a delectable dessert just waiting to be sampled, and he was a sugar addict. His tongue. His fingers. Stroking. Caressing. Driving me crazy.

  Sweet, painful pressure built up in my body, and I thought my hair would catch fire from the sensation. But I’d learned long ago to dampen down the physical manifestation of my power during sex. To let all that fire melt into liquid desire coursing through my veins.

  “Johnny...I...can’t...wait...much...longer,” I panted, fingers clenching the grass.

  “You don’t have to, baby,” he murmured. “I’m ready for you.”

  We kissed, then I rolled Johnny onto his back. I reached for my purse and pulled out one of the condoms. Johnny tried to take it from me, but I pushed him back against the ground.

  “Let me,” I whispered, tearing the packet open with my teeth.

  I trailed my fingers up and down his long length before slipping the condom over him. Johnny’s eyes widened at the sensation, and he hissed.

  Then, I got on my knees and straddled him, taking his stiff shaft deep inside my fiery body. Johnny was so much more than just ready for me. Hard didn’t do the man justice. Even steely couldn’t quite describe it.

  “Oh, baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny murmured. “So tight and hot and wet.”

  I rocked back and forth, thrusting against him. Johnny’s hands stroked my breasts as I rode him, squeezing my nipples until they ached and throbbed along with the rest of me. It only made me want him that much more. All that sweet liquid fire bubbled up in my veins like a volcano about to erupt. A moment later, it did. An orgasm tore through my body, and I cried out. So did he, and we rode up into the stars together.

  Sometime later, I slumped over Johnny with him still inside me.

  “That was fantastic,” I said, nuzzling his neck. Sweat covered my body, and my heartbeat slowly returned to normal. Smoke puffed away from the ends of my fingers, but you could barely see it in the darkness.

  “That was fantastic, but we’re not done yet,” Johnny said.

  He eased me off him and got rid of the condom. Then, he pulled me to my feet and led me down into the lake. The water washed away the slick sweat and cooled my feverish body, as much as it could. Johnny kissed the back of my neck while his hands slid around and covered my breasts, rubbing my nipples until they were hard and aching once more.

  “Come on,” he whispered, withdrawing his hands.

  I followed him. Johnny walked up the bank and tugged me over to one of the picnic tables that flanked the lake.

  “This looks about right,” he said.

  “Yes, it does.”

  Johnny reached for me, but I eluded his grasp, grabbing another condom from my purse. Then, I went down on my knees and took his shaft in my mouth. Johnny gasped in surprise. He staggered, and his back went against the table.

  “You’re not the only one who likes to be shocking,” I said.

  I ran my tongue up and down his penis while my fingers stroked him. Johnny twitched and trembled with every flick of my hot tongue. Now, I was the one in control. Just the way I liked it.

  Not for long, though. Johnny reached down and plucked the condom from me, unrolling it in record time. Then, he picked me up and placed me on top of the picnic table. My legs locked around his waist. Johnny leaned over me, bracing his hands on the cool fiberglass. He stared into my eyes for a heartbeat. Then, he thrust into me. His hungry mouth covered mine, hushing my cries and moans of pleasure.

  Johnny plunged into me over and over again. My hands were everywhere. His hair. Neck. Chest. Abs. Our tongues dueled back and forth even as we pushed together. I couldn’t get enough of him. I urged him on, wanting him to go deeper and deeper.

  So, he did.

  And I loved it.

  Every fantastic, pleasurable, white-hot second.

  Chapter Twelve

  Afterward, we lay there on the cool grass for a long time, looking at the stars and lying in each other’s arms.

  “This is perfect, absolutely perfect,” I said.

  “Yes, yes it is,” Johnny replied in a soft tone.

  “So where do we go from here?”

  Johnny propped his elbow up and stared into my eyes. “I want to keep seeing you, Fiona, if that’s what you’re asking. I might be a rich, spoiled playboy, but I have been known to engage in actual relationships, every now and then. Especially with such an incredible woman like you.”

  It was exactly what I was asking—and exactly the response I wanted.

  “Good. I might be a bitchy fashion designer, but I’ve also been known to indulge in relationships—with certain equally fabulous people.”

  “And do I fit that bill?” Johnny asked.

  “Absolutely. I want to keep seeing you too.” I trailed my fingers down his abdomen. “All of you.”

  Johnny grinned and reached for me again.

  *

  Eventually, we put on our clothes and headed back to the observatory. It was closer to morning than midnight now, and the birds and bugs and bullfrogs had quieted down to sleep. Only a few drunken stragglers remained at the benefit, sitting at tables and guzzling down what was left of the champagne, along with the science types who had organized the event. But they were too busy counting money and tallying up checks and contributions to notice Johnny and me and our disheveled appearance.

  Johnny walked me outside, and a sleepy-looking valet retrieved my convertible. I threw my purse in the car and turned to face Johnny.

  “Dinner tomorrow night?” he asked, cupping my cheek in his hand.

  I hesitated. I liked Johnny, I really did, but the sex hadn’t been as casual as I thought it would be. Quite
the opposite. I’d been looking for a rebound guy, not somebody long-term. But this felt like the beginning of something big, something serious. Despite our earlier promises to keep seeing each other, I didn’t know exactly how I felt about the sexy businessman. Other than hot and bothered.

  “Come on. You promised grandfather you’d come. You wouldn’t want him to miss out on his steak and wine, would you? He was really looking forward to it,” Johnny wheedled.

  I laughed. “Far be it from me to let your grandfather down. Dinner tomorrow night. Or rather, tonight. Eight o’clock?”

  “It’s a date.” Johnny flashed me another sexy grin, leaned in, and kissed me.

  It was another fifteen minutes before I was able to get in my car and drive away.

  *

  I entered my apartment at six in the morning. I tossed my purse on a table and sank onto the scarlet-upholstered sofa. A smile spread across my face. Tonight had been fabulous. Completely, wonderfully, absolutely, perfectly fabulous. I stretched my arms over my head. The dry spell was over. I was totally satisfied. Johnny Bulluci should have been a sculptor instead of a businessman. The things that man could do with his hands. And tongue. And lips...

  My thoughts strayed for a little while, replaying the evening over and over again in my mind. But my stomach rumbled, and I realized that I was starving. Sex really was great for burning calories, not that I had any problem in that department anyway. And it was definitely a lot more fun than exercise.

  I was halfway through a gallon of strawberry cheesecake ice cream when the phone rang. I frowned. Who could be calling me at this hour? Johnny? My heart quickened.

  “Fiona Fine.”

  “Well, it’s about time you got home,” Carmen said. “I left you a message hours ago.”

  I looked at the answering machine. Sure enough, the red light blinked on and off. I’d been so busy thinking about Johnny that I hadn’t even noticed it. “Sorry. I was out.”

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t want anything important. But tell me, how was your date?”